They Say He Can't Be Killed
by littledirewolf
Summary: IF YOU ARE NOT CAUGHT UP ON GAME OF THRONES THIS CONTAINS SOME SPOILERS! When Robb and Grey wind dies their souls fuse together and awaken the young wolf (I suck at summaries I am so sorry)


Bolton's sword pierced through the young king, and everybody watched his lifeless body fall to the blood stained floor. Catelyn Stark screamed, then sliced throat open of Walder Frey's wife. Her whole body sagged, and she gave up. She had just watched her oldest son get murdured by one of their own. Her last breathing son, nothing more than a boy. Raymund Frey marched up to her, took out a knife, and cut her throat open with no resistence from the woman. No fight, not even a cry of pain. The Starks, the northmen, the wife, they all lied dead on the floor and Walder chuckled, taking another sip of wine.

"Let us cut off the boy's head and send it too king Joffrey."

"Put the wolf's head on him!" The men laughed, and one drew his sword from his hip, strolling up to the dead king. He looked at his comrades, cheering him on, as he rose his sword in the air, but stopped as a loud growl was heard from beneath him. A wolf's growl. The swordsman dropped his smile and looked down. A hand rached up to him so quickly that he could barely see when it put it's claws into him. It tore him down to the floor and started to rip him apart with it's claws and teeth. The swordsman's screams of agony were mixed in the room with the beast's dark barks.

The Frey men stood frozen to the ground as they watched the man get slayed. The screams stopped, and the room went quiet. Only heavy pants were heard from the bloody heap on the floor. A figure started standing up. Blood dripped from it's claws, it's back was hunched.

"The Stark boy is still alive!" Someone yelled and Robb started taking staggering steps, his eyes set on the redhaired woman in the green dress.

"Mother?" The young king slurred, his voice darker than before. More like an animal. Like a wolf. When Catelyn did not stirr, or react to his voice the way she had always done, all fifteen years, he stopped, raised his head, and looked straight at Lord Frey, who sat shocked in his stool. His cup discarded on the floor after his had dropped it when the dead king started living.

Robb Stark was alive. But he was not like the boy who had dropped to the floor with a knife though his heart. His hair was shaggier, with stripes of gray and black amidst his red curls. The nails on his fingers had grown into long, knife sharp claws. From the corner of his mouth two sharp canines hung, that he flashed threatingly at Walder. Lord Frey stared paralyzed at the living dead infront of him. What scared him most was the eyes. Those Tully blue orbs had turned almost black, staring at him like a hungry animal. Like a wolf out for blood.

No. It was not Robb Stark standing in front of him. It was a young wolf. _The_ Young Wolf. Like the north mens' stories had spoken.

_He turns into a wolf_

_He cannot be killed_

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM NOW!"

Robb turned around at the sound of swords being drawn. "We'll kill you now, boy!"

"Whatever evil Gods you have on your side can't help you now!"

They took off at him, but the young wolf boy leaped high and struck two men with his claws. The hall was now filled with screams of fear and pain, but it was not the northmen dying this time. It was the Frey bannermen. Robb tore through them, ripping flesh from their bodies with his claws and teeth. With inhuman strength he put those who killed his men and family to death.

Robb turned to Walder Frey last. When all else were dead he leaped up onto the large wooden table and stared down at the lord, who was cowering against the wall behind the chairs. The young wolf glared down at him, exposing his teeth. His face and clothes were bloodied. The swords had not even touched him. He was unharmed exept for the sword wound in his heart. Perhaps it had already healed when he transformed into this beast.

"Did you enjoy watching my family die? My men?" He growled. "Did you enjoy watching _me_ die?"

Walder did not answer. He opened his mouth, yet he could not get any words out.

Robb stepped down from the table, and grabbed Walder's throat in a tight grip. "DID YOU?!" He screamed in his face. The old man nodded hesistantly. "You're shivering, old man. Are you scared of a boy?" He asked in low voice. He ran a claw down the man's cheek. "You killed your guests under your own roof. That is worse than kinslaying, did you know that?" he made a cut in the Lord's cheek, watching as a red drip of blood rolled down from the wound. "The Gods are angry with you now. As a king I feel it is my duty to lend them a hand and kill you." Walder choked as Robb gripped harder, slowly digging his claws into his throat.

"Do it then!" The old man choked out. "_Monster_." Robb let out a sound, something between a scream and a wolf's bark, as he ripped Walder Frey's throat open with one swift movement of his hand. He then stood up, and walked away before starting ro rip off his clothes, piece by piece. Until he stood only in his undershirt and pants. He walked through the pools of blood on his bare feet, stepping over dead bodies all the way to the courtyard. Then he started to run. Through a field of death and fire; where his flags, his family's sigill was burning, still flapping in the wind.

Robb was invinsible now. He truly was the wolf of the north. And he was going to get to Kingslanding. When he got there he was going to kill Joffrey Baratheon with his own hands. Taste the blood, and howl as life left the boy's eyes.


End file.
